"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

Hey guys, long time no blog, as has apparently become standard. Sorry! Still, new year, new chance write really long things on the internet, as they say. With this in mind, I'm breaking with my tradition of post titles starting "In Which..." not because of the fact that so few people these days seem to have read the sorts of books which have chapter titles like that, and not because it isn't awesome, but because it was sort of difficult, given that this isn't the sort of blog which is about things actually happening, as such, so it seemed inapt and sort of clunky.
In what seems to me to be a much more intuitive appraoch, I'm going to go ahead and give this post a title which explains what it's actually about. Crazy, I know, but what can I say? I'm just a wacky and spontaneous chick.

So! Last week was Valentine's Day. (Not the entire week, thankfully, although can you imagine how few people would be glad if it were? Thank goodness for time-limited... holidays? Celebrations? Events? What is Valentine's Day even classified as?) Which meant that it was, as you know, the traditional time for relationship dissatisfaction. The single mutter embitteredly to themselves, and anyone else who'll listen, about manufactured holidays and Hallmark conspiracies; the folks in relationships secretly feel gypped because either their loved one didn't get them anything, or got them something inadequate, or something over the top, or expected them to give something, or whatever.

The people who actually enjoy Valentine's Day for what it is (not like I did, which is to say: I had a quite pleasant day, but not because of it being Valentines)must be a tiny tiny minority. Mainly smug highschool girls who get to carry flowers around all day (whose boyfriends must have had to get up really early to get roses to their girlfriends in time to get to school afterward), and some tiny percentage of people who enjoy a romantic evening with their spouse/partner/[gender]-friend and genuinely prefer to do it in crowded pink locations, surrounded by other people doing the same thing.

I guess, ideally, for Valentine's Day, you'd be one of those midcentury teenagers who enjoyed making out in their cars at the local Lovers' Lane, with similarly occupied cars around them? Like in Pleasantville! Anyway, possibly I am some kind of embittered husk of a human being or something, but I really can't see the fun in Valentine's Day. If someone gives you soemthing, then they've done so out of calendar-based duty rather than as some kind of spontaneous outpouring of affection, and if they don't it's just like all the other days when people don't give you anything, only worse.

Anyway, either because of Valentine's Day or for some mysterious other reason, last week about 5 different people independently asked me whether I had a boyfriend or was married. Since none of those people did that endearing pop-culture thing of brightening perceptibly and asking me of I was busy Friday when I said that I was single, it seems reasonable to rule out the most optimistic interpretation of this sort of question. If nothing else, it looks a lot like all of the people who took it upon themselves to enquire were either married or similarly attached. You can tell, because no single person, surely, no single person in the world, would do what they all did next.

What they all did, when I said that I didn't have a boyfriend, was entirely perplexing to me. Without fail, every one of them said "why?".

What is that even about? What are you expecting when you ask someone "why don't you have a boyfriend?"? I seriously cannot think of a single acceptable answer, a single answer someone asking a question like that could possibly want to hear.

I suppose that maybe what they're trying to imply is that you, the hapless single victim of their take-no-prisoners approach to social interaction and small talk, are simply so wonderful, so beautiful, so devastatingly attractive, that you must be constantly beating off suitors with a stick.

"Why not give in to one of them?" they presumably hope to imply, "There are so many wonderful single dudes all vying for your hand, why are you so stubbornly refusing to give any of them even a chance? The odds are very high that most of the myraid gentlemen besotted with you at any given moment are entirely eligible and would make excellent boyfriends! Why not succumb? I assume that you must have a reason, what is it? If that's not too personal a question". (Which, even in that situation, it obviously would be) But what it ususally sounds like is, more succintly "Why, what's wrong with you? How is it that you've repulsed the entirely of mankind? Is it bad? Should, uh, should I be standing further away from you? It's not leprosy, is it?"

Seriously, what answers are even possible? I tried "I'm too young to have to worry about being married yet" but that not only managed to offend the young-marrier in the room but also caused me to be regaled with a "when my mother was your age she had already had five children" story. This is an awkward conversational gambit at the best of times, but worse in a professional situation like this was, because you're not allowed to cheerfully respond "Gosh! I guess I've dodged a bullet there, then!".

I tried "I'm too busy, what with uni 12 hours a day, plus 3 hours of commute daily (minimum) and this foolish self-indulgent thing I have where I like to sleep more than 6 hours per night. All that only leaves 3 hours' leeway in each day, and I already use that time for such fripperies as buying groceries, cooking and consuming dinner/breakfast, dressing myself, and bathing." this was greeted with the even-more-bizarre-than-the-"my-mother-is-totally-beating-you"-approach: "I used to use that excuse," said the young man of my acquaintance, "that's just what it is, an excuse." I mean really, what? Are you trying to say that I insist on bathing every day to avoid meeting young men? Are you perhaps attempting to imply that it is my duty as a right thinking young woman to want to be in a relationship, that excuses will get me nowhere, and that, irksome as the task inevitably is, I really must stop being selfish and start going on dates? Since this was around Valentines, is it possible that they were suggesting that I was too lazy to carry flowers home with me?

I guess it's true that love is always portrayed as a burdensome duty in our culture, something, with it's tiresome "kisses" and, ugh, "affection", which girls are always trying to avoid. Oh wait, my mistake, that's complete bollocks. Firstly, as if I'd make up excuses to avoid having to date (in general. I'm totally not above making up excuses to avoid dating specific people, but that's an entirely different question), and secondly; even if I were, that's totally valid. Who wants to go out with someone who's only there because they couldn't come up with a proper excuse and knew that "I can't come that night I'll be washing my hair" is fooling nobody? Not me, and not anybody I'd want to date.

What else might you say to a question like "why don't you have a boyfriend"? People generally suggest "I'm a lesbian" if you ask them what would be a goood response, but that only loops back to "Why don't you have a girlfriend, then?". Plus, in giving an actual excuse, you're giving credence to the validity of an entirely unjustifiable question.

Other options include "all the boys I know are married, gay or miscellaneously unsuitable", "I'm afraid I'm simply too repellently unattractive for anyone to ever love", and "I'm currently conducting a torrid affair with your Mum, and she's too jealous to let me see other people". And somehow, none of these seem likely to do the trick.

It all just mystifies me. Do people contract some kind of amnesia, upon entering a relationship, where they forget that there was ever a time when they were single, either by (valid) choice or bad luck? What answer could you possibly be expecting?
I really do feel like someone is missing something. It could be me, but I'm pretty sure it's them.